Lunch Money
by Expendable Red Shirt
Summary: "He actually stole your lunch money? What is this, a bad 80's teen movie?" In which Kurt is a Skank, and Blaine is gullible but still infatuated. Silly little Skank!Kurt one-shot. T for language.


**A/N: **This is just a little oneshot featuring skank!Kurt, along with Santana, Puck, and Quinn, and cute little nerdy Blaine, who isn't anything close to smooth. But he tries, bless his little heart.

**Warning(s): **Language, mentions of high school children smoking.

* * *

Maybe it was stupid to ask a boy with the purple streaks in his hair, multiple piercings, an upside-down cross necklace, and all-black ripped clothing and clunky black boots for directions to his first class, but Blaine had never been the most rational person, and the (slightly scary) boy was _hot_.

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson. I'm new."

The darkly pretty boy raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and his blue-green eyes raked up and down the length of Blaine's body, sizing him up. Blaine fidgeted nervously under the boy's scrutiny. Finally he spoke, bored expression still firmly in place. "Okay, so you're new here, Frodo. What do you want me to do, throw you a fucking party?"

His voice was so angelic Blaine didn't even mind that it was being used to make fun of him. No matter what the boy said, though, Blaine would have been flustered, because he never could keep his composure around gorgeous men - and especially not around gorgeous men with voices fit for angels.

Hence, the next words out of his mouth were, "U-um, no, I was - um, I –"

"The Special Ed classes are down that hallway," the boy informed him, pointing to the right.

Blaine knew he was blushing bright red. "No, I'm not - not that there's anything wrong with - I just…" He paused and took a deep breath, attempting to collect himself. "I was just wondering if you could help me find Miss Wardwill's AP Chem class. I have it first period and the lady at the front office wasn't very helpful." The large, gray-haired, bubblegum-popping woman had been too involved in her Harlequin romance novel to give him any useful directions.

The boy stayed silent in thought for a while, before finally coming to a decision. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. "Blaine Anderson," he said as he stuck his hand out.

Kurt eyed the appendage distastefully. "You already said that."

"Oh." Kurt didn't say anything else and Blaine began racking his brain for ways to continue their conversation. "So, are you–"

"You know," Kurt interrupted, "you didn't have to tell me you were new. I already assumed that."

"How?"

"Well, not only have I never seen you before, which would be impossible if you'd lived in this cowtown your whole life, but you've also stopped to talk to me, which, if you were from Lima, you'd know not to do."

"And… and why shouldn't I have stopped to talk to you?" Blaine asked uncertainly.

"Well, some people say I'm… dangerous." Kurt's eyes were smouldering and his smirk was amused as he prowled closer to the shorter boy; clearly this was a challenge.

"Maybe I _like_ danger," Blaine bluffed, heart hammering so loudly in his chest he was sure the other boy could hear it. But Kurt just raised his pierced eyebrow, slightly impressed at Blaine's reply.

"Okay, I'll show you around school," he decided.

Blaine was barely able to keep himself from jumping up and down like an excited little child. "You will?"

Kurt shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Oh thank you so much I mean I'm new here and I don't really know anyone except my cousin Rachel and she's sort of crazy maybe you know her–"

His endless, punctuation-less rambling was luckily cut off by Kurt informing him, "It'll cost you though." And Blaine's perplexed look, he continued, "Listen, I know everything about this school. I know all the ins and outs, I know the places for people like you to avoid, and I have all the dirt on the popular kids that, if used correctly, will generally keep you from getting bullied too bad. Plus, being seen with me will get you some immediate cred around here. I can't do all this for _free_."

Blaine though about it for only a second, before asking, "How much?"

Kurt blue-green eyes, heavily outlined in black liner, ran over him closely. "How much you got?"

Blaine took a twenty out from his back pocket and held it up. "I only have a twenty, but I'm supposed to use it for lunch for the next few d–"

Kurt snatched the bill out of his hands. "Perfect."

Blaine sighed in defeat. At least he was getting a tour (with a really hot tour guide) for his money. Skipping lunch wasn't so bad. "So, where–"

"What are you doing talking to this preppy loser, Kurt?" a sultry, obviously female voice cut him off (it seemed Blaine couldn't get in a full sentence around these people).

He looked behind Kurt and saw a girl with pink hair and a nose ring sauntering over to them. She wore ripped fishnet leggings, cutoff black shorts, and a black shirt that declared "_Hell is SO HOT Right Now_". Her black boots matched Kurt's. Next to her was a gorgeous Latina in similar garb, though her outfit was much more form-fitting and revealing, and she wore dangerous-looking heels (seriously, how did she walk in those?) instead of combat bots. The tips of her raven hair were died blood red, and the smirk on her visciously beautiful face was a strange mix of sexy and terrifying. Following just behind the two girls was a tan, muscled boy with his head shaved except for a strip down the middle, whose look screamed "I'm-too-fucking-badass-to-care."

"You trying to get in this hobbit's too-short pants, Lady Lips?" the Latina guessed. "He _does_ have a nice ass, for a freakishly short nerd with annoyingly curly hair. Although I think his dick will be kinda small, so you'd better top this one." Blaine didn't even have a chance to respond to the insult aimed at his - perfectly nicely sized - package, before the mohawked boy was talking.

"Hey, what's wrong with curly hair?" the boy protested. "My little sister has curly hair!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Please, Santana, propositioning everyone with working genitals is _your_ territory," he shot back, ignoring the mohawked boy's distress.

Santana shrugged, not bothering to deny it. "If you're not getting sex out of it, then why are you wasting your time talking to it?" Oh, so he was an _it,_ now? Blaine couldn't help but be sort of offended.

"I'm getting some money for cigarettes, and you three better be fucking grateful."

"Always am, Princess," the mohawked boy assured.

The pink-haired girl scoffed. _"Please,_ Porcelain," Blaine liked that nickname for Kurt; it fit him - and in any case it was certainly better than Lady Lips, "if anything it just makes up for all the times you've bummed a smoke off me."

Kurt shrugged. "What are friends for other than free cigarettes?"

"Letting out sexual frustration?" Santana supplied.

"Well, that too," Kurt conceded. "Now let's go. I have a math test next period I don't feel like taking." The four intimidating teens headed off towards the front doors of the school, and the students in their way parted like the red sea for them.

"Wait!" Blaine called, realizing he'd been forgotten. "I thought you were going to show me around!"

"AP Chem's down that hall, room 109," Kurt said, gesturing down the hall without turning around or stopping. "You can thank me later."

The last thing Blaine heard was Kurt saying to his friends, "He _does_ have a nice ass though, doesn't he?" And then the four teens disappeared around the corner, leaving Blaine standing by the locker, feeling cheated.

Was it safe to assume he wasn't going to get his tour?

~O~O~

Later that day at lunch, Blaine was sitting in the cafeteria with his cousin Rachel's friends – people from the school's glee club, New Directions, which he was auditioning for after school. They all seemed like nice people, despite all the drama that Rachel had told him about during their two-hour Thursday phone calls (Rachel was crazy about scheduling).

"Why aren't you eating any lunch, Blaine?" asked an Asian girl named Tina. She'd had several classes with him, and was so incredibly sweet she made Blaine feel like a horrible person by comparison.

Blaine dropped his gaze to table. "I met Kurt Hummel," he said simply.

The other teens at the table looked at the curly-haired boy in confusion. "What does meeting one of the Skanks have to do with you not having lunching?" Finn Hudson, a tall jock and also Rachel's boyfriend, asked, obviously confused.

"He stole my lunch money," Blaine explained, his voice flat.

Silence reigned at the full lunch table for nearly a whole minute (probably a record for the loud club), before Artie Abrams said, "_What_?"

"Kurt Hummel. _Stole._ My lunch money," he repeated, slower this time.

"He actually _stole_ your _lunch_ _money_?" Mercedes Jones reiterated in disbelief. "What is this, a bad 80's teen movie?"

"Explain," Rachel demanded. "Now."

Blaine sighed and glanced up from the table. "I met him, we talked, he took my lunch money to buy cigarettes for his friends." His stomach gave a loud growl. "And now I'm hungry."

Rachel looked about ready to jump out of her seat and raise hell. "I cannot believe that he stole private property from you!" she exclaimed. "And on your first day, no less! Who does Kurt Hummel think he is? I'll report this to Mr. Schue, to Principal Figgins, to the _superintendent_! He has no right to–"

"Just leave it, Rach," Blaine interrupted his ranting cousin. "I'll just bring more money tomorrow. I can go lunchless today."

"Nonsense!" Sugar gasped. "Here, I'll share with you!" Soon he was fielding offers of food from around the table, and amassed basically a complete lunch. Rachel was still a bad mood, and he knew he'd have to convince her not to report Kurt.

He actually wasn't all that angry at the boy. Sure, he'd left Blaine to fend for himself and go hungry at lunch, but… he was hot. And intriguing. Honestly, Blaine would let Kurt steal his lunch money any day, if it meant he got to spend some time with him. He didn't need food if he had his own personal bad boy.

Plus, Kurt had said he had a nice ass - and considering the ass of the boy who'd given the compliment… well, Blaine found it hard to stay angry at him. He'd always been a sucker for compliments. Especially compliments from hot guys.

* * *

**A/N: **This all sprang into my head when I thought of the line about Kurt stealing Blaine's lunch money. I don't know why, but I really wanted to write it. Please review - a comment doesn't take half as much effort as writing a story, and yet it's appreciated just as much! Please and thank you :).

If enough people like this, I might consider doing other stories in this verse (though I have other things I SHOULD be focusing on). Let me know what you think!


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